


Rockabye

by habitsayss



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Zim is Defective (Invader Zim)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:42:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habitsayss/pseuds/habitsayss
Summary: It's just routine, same as how he's just a computer.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 100





	Rockabye

**Author's Note:**

> This was heavily inspired by Tech Support, an INCREDIBLE fic by dana-chan325 on tumblr! Please please please for the love of all that is good go check them out,,, their brain is so fucking big

**TIME : 11:59 PM**

**INITIATING ROUTINE SCAN OF BASE…**

The first thing the Computer noticed was his master's condition. An alarming one, at that, the small Irken was curled up under several piles of blankets, his heat signature low and his lithe form trembling. 

For a moment the Computer wondered if his master had contracted a disease at skool and neglected to mention it, but a swift diagnostic scan proved otherwise. 

The Computer wondered if he should interfere, after all, his master was known for his temper, but at the same time his programming dictated that he was required to assist his master in any way necessary. 

And so the Computer braved the metaphorical eggshells, and began to walk. 

**"... Master?"**

The invader didn't respond immediately, only emitting a small gasping sound that the Computer quickly registered as a sob, muffled under the blankets despite the way the force of the action shook his small body. 

**"Is… is everything okay?"** The Computer continued, attempting cautiously to garner the little Irken's attention. 

After a few moments of hesitation, the young master's head emerged from the pile of cloth, large ruby eyes tired and puffy in their sockets. 

"... What…?" He croaked, voice softer than the Computer had ever heard it. He sounded sad, and broken, traits usually not associated with a functional Irken soldier, much less an invader. But the Computer long ago accepted his master was defective, and sought to assist the temperamental little creature nonetheless. 

**"You-"** The Computer paused. He knew better than to point out the obvious to his master, especially concerning traits of defectivity. He decided to start again.  **"Is everything okay?"**

Zim did not answer right away. He instead stared down at the mess of pillows beneath him, forcing back more tears. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he shook his head, a slow and unpracticed motion that rocked his entire frame with it. 

The Computer ran another quick scan, determining that his master's body heat was uncomfortably high, and while not the direct source of the issue, he still sought to alleviate his master's discomfort nonetheless. With that in mind- er, database, the Computer swept the blankets off the plush surface of the bed with a wire tendril lowered from the ceiling, only offering the explanation of  **"You're overheating."** As he did so. 

The Irken only clutched a pillow the size of his own frame, burrowing his face in the soft material. The Computer could tell from the way his master's body shook suddenly that another muffled sob had escaped his lips, however hidden it may be. 

The Computer remained silent for a moment, unable to do much but watch the display, attempting to come up with a solution to his master's problem when in truth, he didn't even know what was wrong. 

Finally, he came to a conclusion, tangling wire tendrils together to form a makeshift net, lifting his master into it and bringing him close to the rest of the warm wires in the ceiling that made up his circuitry, simulating the best he could what the humans called a hug. While the gesture was foreign to Irkens, for the most part, research had shown physical affection to be therapeutic for the master, not that he'd ever admit it. 

"... C-Computer…" The Irken spoke, his beckon barely above a whisper. "Is Zim… Truly great…?" 

The Computer was taken aback by the question. Had Zim been throwing a fit just to have his ego stroked? While the Computer certainly wouldn't put it past his master, this somehow appeared… deeper than that. 

**"Of course, master."** The Computer answered, a practiced response. 

"A-And…" Another sob shook him, and Zim's cheeks reddened with embarrassment, for being an invader, yet he cried like a smeet. "And if Zim was not great… you would still serve Zim, yes?" 

Is that what this was about? Insecurity? Despite being an A.I., crafted for a mission and nothing more, the computer felt a duty to comfort the crying Irken cradled in his wires.  **"Of course, master."** The Computer responded easily, untangling another, thinner wire, which he used to gently stroke his master's antennae, a gesture meant to calm Irkens used long before the militarization of the species.  **"But you are great."**

"But I am great…" Zim repeated, letting his tired ruby eyes fall shut at the motions, beginning to purr softly. 

In his mind's eye, the Computer saw images of human fathers with their sons, holding them in similar fashions to himself with his master. For a moment he entertained the thought that his relationship with his master could be described similarly, what with the Computer consistently caring and providing for Zim, and in cases like these, comforting him when necessary. 

But the thoughts were soon dismissed as the Computer was reminded that this was a mission, and small moments of closeness would mean little were it to be completed. 

Still, that didn't mean he couldn't savor cradling the small, purring Irken while it lasted. 


End file.
